


Five Times Matt & Foggy Held Hands (And One Time They Didn't)

by coffeegrl



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Breakups, Bromance, Catholic Character, Christmas, College, CryingMatt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Handholding, InsecureMattMurdock, M/M, Panic Attacks, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, SadFoggy, SadMatt, SickMatt, TheFlu, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeegrl/pseuds/coffeegrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set mostly in their law school days, Matt and Foggy end up holding hands more than two platonic straight guy friends usually do. No slash but definitely some bromance. Also, I suck at titles, so there ya go.</p><p>Also, I do not own Daredevil, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, or anything Marvel related. I'm simply playing with these cute boys and I promise I will put them back on the shelf unharmed when I am done with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting to Know You

**Author's Note:**

> I looked online but couldn't find anything anywhere that referenced when Matt's birthday is. So I put it in the time of year (late April/early May) that makes it most convenient for my storyline. If anyone actually knows when his birthday is, let me know and I'll correct and alter things.
> 
> I'll add additional tags as I write the chapters and see where my mind takes Matt and Foggy.
> 
> This is the first fanfiction I've written in years and my first ever Daredevil story. Please be kind in your criticisms but do let me know if there's anything I can do better.

“Hey, do you know a place to get a good cup of coffee around here?” Foggy asked.

“No,” Matt replied.

“Well lucky for you I do, and it’s full of luscious co-eds. Come on,” Foggy said, standing up and waiting for Matt to join him.

Matt and Foggy stood there, in the place they would both be calling home until next May, Matt waiting for Foggy to lead the way and Foggy trying to figure out just what he was supposed to do in this situation. Foggy, having zero experience with blind people, wasn’t sure if he was supposed to give directions to Matt like he was some sort of driver’s ed instructor (turn left…yield to oncoming pedestrians….make a right) or if he was supposed to talk to Matt the whole time so he could follow the sound of his voice. Or maybe he was just supposed to let Matt use his cane to figure out where to walk. The hall was busy however with first year law students moving in and Foggy was honestly concerned that Matt might end up whacking his fellow classmates with his cane in an attempt to navigate the hallway, and that would be no way to make friends in a degree program that relied heavily on study groups and making connections for future job possibilities. 

Matt was also just standing there, not sure how to interact with this person he had just met and was going to be living with for the next nine months. Matt knew he would be able to navigate the crowded hallway just fine, even with his senses being a little on overload from the different sounds and scents and, was somebody smoking weed already? Matt shook his head to try and clear out the overwhelming environment and Foggy took that to mean, “I can’t do the hallway by myself. I’m a blind guy who can’t see where I’m going or when I’m about to run into something, remember?” 

Foggy being, well, Foggy, didn’t think to ask Matt what he needed in terms of navigation assistance. Instead, Foggy just grabbed Matt’s hand that wasn’t holding the cane and began to pull him toward the door. “This way to caffeine and hotties!” Foggy exclaimed, narrowly keeping Matt from running into the wall instead of through the door. 

“Foggy. Foggy,” Matt said, trying to get him to slow down.

“Listen, you and me buddy, this is gonna be great. We can use your blindness to get all the hot, sympathetic chicks who feel bad you got your peepers knocked out…”

“They weren’t knocked out, I told you that,” Matt said, laughing a little at the fact that Foggy not only didn’t seem bothered by Matt’s blindness but, for the first time in a very long time, Matt seemed to have found someone who was trying to put a somewhat positive spin on the whole blind thing.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that,” Foggy insisted, stepping out of the elevator, grabbing Matt’s hand again, and leading him into hot and steamy New York City. 

Matt could hear the sounds of students everywhere. The incoming freshmen were moving in today as well as first year law and med students. The next two days would be full of varying orientations for those three particular groups. Matt smiled sadly when he and Foggy walked past a young man who was putting a brave note in his voice while saying good-bye to his parents but who was obviously, to Matt anyway, scared to death to be living somewhere other than under Mom and Dad’s roof for the first time in his life. It was convincing enough that the boy’s parents didn’t seem concerned about leaving him but Matt figured that once the boy was alone somewhere he would allow himself to feel the anxiety over all of this, even if only for a few minutes. 

This wasn’t the first time in his life that Matt wished he had parents to see him off for these big events in his life. Having turned 18 a few weeks before graduating from high school, he had to leave the orphanage literally the day after graduation, so he had no one to help him celebrate, nor see him off to his dorm room for his first semester of undergraduate studies. Matt had managed to find a small studio apartment in Hell’s Kitchen that he could rent for just the couple of months he needed it in between graduation and freshman move-in day. He had to pay 25% more in rent since he didn’t sign a year’s lease but he didn’t mind. One of the counselors at his high school had helped him find a couple of scholarships that, due to being both blind and an orphan, would pay for him to live in on-campus housing year-round once he actually became an official student that August. Matt had celebrated his high school graduation and upcoming college career with a rather expensive chocolate cupcake from a fancy bakery and tried not to be too upset over the fact that others in his graduating class were getting presents and parties while he was sitting on a park bench hoping he wasn’t getting the gooey chocolate icing all over his face.

Matt suddenly realized that Foggy was still talking about all the ways that Matt’s blindness was going to help them land hot women. “Foggy, I’m here to get a law degree not go out on dates every single night. Besides, one lesson I learned very quickly in college was that the novelty of dating a blind guy wears off pretty fast. Going to the movies or a basketball game is out and even something like the zoo isn’t much fun for me. I mean, I remember what some animals look like from before I was blind, but when your date’s constantly feeling bad by slipping up and saying stuff like ‘Look at the…..oh never mind, sorry,’ it just takes any fun there was out of it.” 

“We’re here,” Foggy said, opening the door and leading Matt through into the café. Matt was immediately overwhelmed with the scents of brewed coffee, freshly ground espresso, mocha, vanilla, and a plethora of other syrups that were used to concoct fancy drinks. He could also smell a few bakery type items, such as muffins and biscotti. Foggy finally let go of Matt’s hand when they were at the counter. 

Foggy ordered a mocha with whipped cream and a blueberry muffin. Matt ordered a simple vanilla latte, decaf please, and did they have any chocolate dipped almond biscotti? They did? Great! He’d take one of those as well. As he was paying he found it a little odd that the barista had asked Foggy if his order was for here or to go but not him. He brushed it off though figuring they would assume his was for here since Foggy’s was and they were obviously here together. However, when their orders were up, Foggy’s was in a mug and Matt’s in a to-go cup. 

“Do you want them to put it in a mug for you?” Foggy asked, lowering his voice so as not to embarrass Matt.

“No, it’s ok,” Matt said. “I’ve gotten used to this at coffee shops. I think they’re always afraid I’ll burn myself and then sue.”

“Well, if you ever do need to sue someone, say three or four years from now, I know this guy who’s going to make a great lawyer!” Matt could practically hear Foggy’s cheesy smile on his face.

“I’ll remember that,” Matt said, folding up his cane and setting it down on their little table. Matt heard Foggy’s breathing change, just slightly. He waited patiently, hoping whatever it was Foggy wanted to ask he wouldn’t chicken out of. Finally, Foggy spoke.

“So, obviously some things are out for you. The movies, museums, sporting events,” Foggy began. “So what kinds of things do you do for, you know, fun?”

“Well, first not all sporting events are out for me. Fast paced ones like basketball and ice hockey that have multiple players moving at the same time, those are out. But I had a classmate in undergrad who, when we’d go to home baseball games, he would provide a running commentary on what was going on. There’s a lot more downtime and not nearly as many players doing stuff at the same time. Plus, I played with a few kids in the neighborhood one summer, before the accident. So it’s easier for me to visualize that sport.”

“Ok,” Foggy said. “So when baseball season starts up in the spring, we’ll definitely have to catch a game or two.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Matt said, wondering why Foggy was already thinking ahead to the springtime in terms of “things to do with Matt.” While getting coffee was great and all, Matt knew that being friends with the blind guy was rough and sooner or later, most likely sooner, Foggy would make friends who could go to movies and basketball games and other things the general sighted community enjoyed doing. 

“So what else?” Foggy asked. “What hobbies I never dreamed I’d be interested in am I going to have to try in order for our friendship to grow?”

“Well, I really like to read,” Matt said. “Some things, such as classics, can be ordered fairly easily in Braille. And other stuff, popular fiction, I can request to have translated into Braille. I never get to read anything when it’s first published, but sometimes I’ll splurge on an audiobook. I like going to the symphony. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra is really cool. I realize I can’t see their laser light show that everyone seems to rave about, but the music is still really good. And unlike regular concerts, people aren’t singing along or yelling through the whole thing, so I don’t get too overwhelmed with the noise.”

“You’ve been to a regular concert?” Foggy asked around a mouthful of muffin.

“Sort of, once,” Matt replied, taking a drink of his latte. “It was the second date for me and this girl sophomore year of college. Between the loud rock music and everybody dancing around and yelling, I had to leave after the first two songs. She wasn’t real happy about that since the band is one of her favorites and she suddenly became very busy after that. She wanted to focus on her studies. I know it shouldn’t bother me but it did when, a few weeks before graduation, I found out she was married and five months pregnant.”

“Sorry dude,” Foggy said.”

“It’s ok. I have no clue if we would have been compatible, you know, long-term. The problem, like I said earlier, is that the novelty of dating the blind guy wears off sooner rather than later for most women, and most don’t stick around long enough to get to that point. But enough about me,” Matt said, popping the last bite of his biscotti into his mouth. “What does Foggy Nelson like to do?”

That simple question launched Foggy into a 20 minute long explanation of his fascination of video games. Even though Matt didn’t want to, and he tried to keep the feeling smashed down, he found himself really warming up to Foggy. Even though he knew, and no one would be able to convince him otherwise of this, that Foggy would eventually spend most of his time with other friends, he figured that they would at least get along fairly well as roommates. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Foggy said a little while later. “Too many parental units are hovering around with their precious children they just can’t bear to leave quite yet. They keep looking at me like they know where I’ve hidden the beer in our dorm room.”

“Wait, you have beer hidden in our dorm room?” Matt asked. Matt didn’t necessarily follow every rule put before him, but the rules were pretty clear that, even though all the law students were over 21, they were not allowed to keep or consume alcohol in the dorms. 

“There’s beer in the where now?” Foggy asked, pretending innocence. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Matt’s hand again and leading him through the throng of people who had just arrived from one of the dorms that was only a block away. 

Matt and Foggy made it back to their dorm in record time and Foggy quickly collapsed on his bed. “Dude, I’m so not going to be able to sleep tonight after all that caffeine. What’s wrong?” Foggy asked, sitting up and noticing that Matt was still standing awkwardly instead of going to his bed or desk.

“Foggy, um,” Matt began to fidget with his cane, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “I really appreciate you helping me find my way around today. There were a lot of new people and, even though I can usually get around ok, sometimes I do get a little overwhelmed.”

“But……” Foggy said.

“Well, there’s a certain technique to helping a blind person navigate and it usually doesn’t involve, um,” Matt took a deep breath and said, in one long run on word, “ holding his hand in a way that makes you wonder if he’s gonna try and get to second base with you later.” Matt could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and just knew that he had successfully ended his possible friendship with Foggy in less than 24 hours. This had to be a new record for him. Then he heard Foggy laughing.

“Dude! I was never going to try and get to second base with you. I’m much more of a gentleman than that. But seriously, why didn’t you say anything?”

Matt shrugged. “I didn’t want to seem like I was ungrateful for the help. Whenever someone’s tried to help me before, if I tell them I’m ok on my own, they seem to take it as a personal insult that I won’t let them help the poor blind guy. Kind of like I took away their good deed of the week they were trying to accomplish and now they have to go find another good deed to do before facing God in church Sunday morning.” 

“So how should I help you? If you need and want it?” Foggy said in a rush, not wanting Matt to think that Foggy was assuming he would always need extra help. 

“Come stand over here,” Matt said. Foggy got up from his bed and stood beside Matt. “Forget I’m blind. Just stand next to me like you stand next to anyone waiting to cross at the crosswalk.” Matt then reached out and placed his hand lightly on Foggy’s elbow. “Like that. Just walk normally and my hand will be right there on your elbow. It’s more to make sure we don’t drift apart while walking and to make sure I don’t, you know, walk into a pole or trip over a cat.”

“Trip over a cat?” Foggy asked, laughing.

“Yeah, dogs are nice. They’ll move for a blind person. A cat? It’ll expect you to go three blocks out of your way before it’ll move for you. And they don’t take too kindly to being accidently poked with your cane either.”

“But if you ever need more than just a little guidance? If you’re unsure of where you’re going or you’re sick or have a headache or anything that might make it harder for you to get around……..?”

Matt removed his hand from Foggy’s elbow and took his hand instead, giving it a little squeeze. “I’ll make sure to let you know.”


	2. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt has a bad experience. While being the awesome, listening friend that he is, Foggy learns a lot about Matt's past that has shaped how he thinks of himself in the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know where I'm going with the rest of the chapters in this little series. However, if you have any stories or ideas you'd like to see written down, let me know and I'll do my best to write something.

Foggy sat on his bed, at 8:00 on a Friday night, wondering why he was in his pajamas, drinking hot chocolate, and reading instead of out at a bar or a party somewhere. Oh, that’s right, he remembered. He had promised Matt he would read The Hobbit, one of Matt’s personal favorites, and they would discuss it over their Saturday afternoon pizza which had become a regular, as well as unhealthy and slightly expensive, Saturday afternoon tradition of theirs.

Foggy had never been much of a reader before. But Matt loved books and, in his effort to tug Matt a little bit farther out of the shell he seemed to be carrying around himself, last Sunday evening Foggy said he would read any book that Matt wanted him to read and they could discuss it the next Saturday. Matt’s face seemed to light up and, with zero hesitation Matt said, “The Hobbit!” and then started digging around in a box under his bed like he was looking for gold. Finally Matt emerged triumphant with an honest-to-God real book, full of the written word and not braille. Apparently, he had read The Hobbit before his accident and it was one of the few things that had survived his stay in the orphanage. 

Foggy had put off starting the book though until earlier that afternoon. Thankfully he actually found it quite interesting and now only had about 30 pages left. He looked up in surprise when Matt, usually very put together and well-behaved, the way Foggy’s mother would describe him if she ever got a chance to meet Matt, came barreling through the door madder than Foggy had ever seen him before. Foggy knew something was upsetting Matt when he tossed his cane haphazardly in a corner, threw his jacket on the floor, plopped his glasses on his bedside table, and flopped down on the bed.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Foggy asked. Foggy knew Matt had a blind date for that night and he suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of stomach that it did not go well, especially since Matt had only left the dorm an hour ago. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Matt said, getting back up in a huff and stalking off to their small bathroom that consisted of a sink, toilet, and tiny shower barely large enough to turn around in. Foggy heard Matt slamming things around, hoping he didn’t end up knocking one of his own teeth out with violent brushing or flossing. A few minutes later Matt came out of the bathroom having changed into a pair of pajama bottoms and t shirt. Matt crawled into bed and Foggy tentatively sat down beside him.

“Hey, whatever it is that’s wrong, you might feel better if you talk about it,” Foggy reached out and placed a hand on Matt’s back.

“Well, I don’t want to feel better and I don’t want to talk about it, ok? Just turn out the light, please, so I can go to sleep.”

“Um Matt, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Foggy said, gently rubbing a circle on Matt’s back, “but you’re blind. The light shouldn’t bother you.”

“Oh I’m blind am I? Well thanks so much for pointing that out Captain Obvious! It seems everyone wants to remind me of that tonight.” Matt scooted away from Foggy and pulled the covers over his head. “Do whatever you want, just leave me alone.”

Foggy sighed. “Fine. But if you decide you want to talk, you can wake me up, even if it’s the middle of the night.” Foggy’s offer was met with stony silence. Finally Foggy just gave Matt one more gentle pat on his back and went back to The Hobbit trying to not pay attention to the very mad lump in the bed only a few feet away.

After Foggy finished The Hobbit, he put a dvd in his laptop and plugged his headphones in. Two hours later, while getting ready for bed, he could have sworn he heard a small sob and sniffle coming from the Matt shaped lump. Foggy debated back and forth between trying to get Matt to talk and just leaving him alone. Finally Foggy crawled into bed, deciding he didn’t want to face the wrath of Matt again, or be met with stony silence. He was hoping that after Matt had some time to calm down over whatever had upset him that he would be willing to talk about it. It was hard for Foggy to remember sometimes that Matt hadn’t grown up in a loving family environment with two parents to encourage him to talk out his anger instead of bottling it up inside until it was unleashed in an unhealthy way. Foggy fell asleep, still fighting the urge to get up and hug Matt every time he heard a small sob or sniffle coming from under the blankets.

Foggy woke up around 10:00 Saturday morning only to discover that Matt’s bed was already made and his jacket and cane were gone. When 2:00 rolled around and Matt still wasn’t back, Foggy went ahead and ordered their usual pizza, hoping Matt would be back by 2:30. Foggy had kept up his end of the deal and read The Hobbit and was going to be pissed if Matt skipped out on their Saturday afternoon pizza without telling him ahead of time. Matt walked back into the room just a few minutes before the pizza guy arrived. Foggy paid for the pizza, even though it was technically Matt’s turn, and pulled out paper plates and napkins from his desk drawer and two cans of soda from their mini fridge. He thought about breaking out two bottles of beer that he knew Matt knew about but decided not to. 

“Did you have a good morning?” Foggy asked tentatively, not wanting to be yelled at by Matt again. Foggy was a fairly patient person but if Matt was mad about something then Foggy thought he either needed to talk about it, to him or someone else, or learn to keep his anger reigned in when his best friend was just trying to help him. “Huh,” Foggy said absent-mindedly when he realized he had just thought of him and Matt as best friends. He didn’t know when that had snuck up on him, but it made sense.

“It was ok,” Matt replied, opening his can of soda and grabbing two slices of pizza and settling himself on the floor next to Foggy. “I went to the Catholic chapel here on campus.” 

“Why did you go there?” Foggy asked. He knew Matt was Catholic and followed the Catholic Church’s rules and beliefs on many things, but it wasn’t something Matt really spoke too much about. Foggy made a mental note to do some research on Catholicism so he wouldn’t sound like a complete idiot if the subject ever came up between him and Matt.

“Why do you think I went there?” Matt asked. “It certainly wasn’t to tap dance.” 

“Well no because I hear the Methodist church on campus is the place to go to do a little Saturday morning tap dancing,” Foggy replied, smiling and hoping Matt wouldn’t be too pissed off about his joke. Fortunately Matt smiled and let out a little laugh. 

“I went there to talk to the priest, go to confession, pray a little,” Matt said. He then bowed his head, made the sign of the cross, and prayed, “Bless us Oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord, Amen.” 

Foggy sat there a little awkwardly, his piece of pizza sticking out of his mouth while Matt prayed. Matt seemed to go in waves up and down with his faith. At the beginning of each week, after attending Mass on Sunday afternoon, he always seemed a little more Catholic than at the end of the week. Foggy had even encouraged Matt to attend a few social gatherings at the Catholic center on campus, but Matt insisted it would most likely be immature undergraduates there just looking to have fun and not really immerse themselves in their faith. Foggy didn’t know that Matt had attended the open house there the weekend before classes started and, after noticing just how awkward all these young kids were around him, he chose not to go back to any social gatherings. He still attended Mass there and had requested a couple private conversations with the priest, but Matt certainly wasn’t going to deliberately put himself in any kind of position where he could be made fun of or pitied. 

“So I finished The Hobbit, just like I said I would,” Foggy said, taking a drink of soda.

“What did you think?” Matt asked, trying to dab off some of the grease on the pepperoni pizza with a napkin.

“I really liked it and I’m not just saying that,” Foggy said. He then went into a description of one of his favorite parts of the book, where the dwarves and Bilbo escaped the elvenking’s capture of them by hiding in empty wine barrels. 

Matt tried to listen to Foggy, he really did. After all, this was his book suggestion and he really appreciated Foggy trying something new for him. However, Matt’s thoughts drifted away to the incident from the night before and soon, he had tuned Foggy out completely and was mentally beating himself up for thinking that last night could have been anything other than the set-up that it was.

“And then,” Foggy said, “it was so awesome when the Smurfs showed up and helped Gollum see the error of his ways in keeping a ring that obviously belonged to someone else.”

“Wait, Smurfs? There are no Smurfs in The Hobbit,” Matt said.

“I know,” Foggy replied. “But your mind was obviously somewhere else.” Foggy wiped his hands on his napkin and cleared his throat. “Look, Matt, you made it pretty clear last night that whatever you were upset about you didn’t want to discuss. And I’m hoping it was one of the topics of conversation between you and the priest this morning. But you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you upset. I know….I know you were crying some last night too. It took everything in me not to hug you, whether you wanted it or not.”

Matt set his pizza back on his plate, suddenly not very hungry. He kept his eyes averted down and away from Foggy. “I was supposed to have a blind date last night,” Matt said quietly. “Unfortunately, the girl didn’t know she was going to literally have a blind date. She um, she didn’t take too well to not being told ahead of time that I’m blind.”

“Oh Matt,” Foggy said, reaching out and taking Matt’s hand, interlocking their fingers. Matt had been holding it together pretty well until he felt Foggy’s hand in his, then his lower lip and chin started to quiver a little bit. Matt took several deep breaths, determined not to cry in front of Foggy. He didn’t think Foggy would mind or make fun of him, but crying was not something he did. After all, he was a strong, independent boy, or at least that’s what the nuns at St. Agnes Orphanage had always told him. 

“Matt you don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to. I grew up in a family where talking was encouraged and so it’s just natural for me to want others to talk out their frustrations too. But I also don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything that goes on in your life. Everyone has a secret or two and that’s ok.”

“No, I…..I want to tell you what happened,” Matt said, his voice breaking slightly. 

Foggy pushed their food out of the way and leaned against the wall, pulling Matt with him. They were now sitting side by side, still holding hands. Foggy loosened his hold on Matt’s hand slightly, in case it was making Matt feel weird, and was a little surprised when Matt tightened his grip on him. Matt was silent for several minutes and, whether he was gathering his thoughts or getting his emotions under control, Foggy didn’t know and didn’t ask. He just sat there silently with Matt, being a physical presence and, he hoped, comfort.

“I know a lot of people get freaked out over the whole me being blind thing,” Matt began. “Some people, like I said when I first met you, dance around me like I’m made of glass. Others feel like they have to go out of their way to help me with simple things, like opening a door or eating food.”

“Eating food?” Foggy asked, not quite sure what he meant. 

“The very first time I went to the cafeteria in the dorm I was living in during undergrad, the person serving the food asked if I needed my chicken cut into bite sized pieces and if I could feed myself. Then the guy behind me in line made a comment about invalids holding up the line when I was the one waiting for the tray. Then one of his friends said they should put all of the ‘special students’ in one dorm building away from regular people so they could live their lives like the normal people they are.”

Foggy found himself growing angry. How dare those guys think Matt wasn’t a “normal person!” Foggy wanted to find that guy and punch him. Or at least glare at him and say a few choice words.

“Dating’s never been easy either,” Matt continued. “The women I’ve gone out with tend to either get annoyed that our options for dates are very limited or they fall in love with the idea of helping this wounded handsome duck.” Matt squeezed Foggy’s fingers letting him know he’d remembered what Foggy had called him the day they’d first met. “After a while though they want a partner. An equal. Not somebody they feel like they have to mother.”

“But you don’t need to be mothered,” Foggy said, surprise evident in his voice. “You feed yourself and brush your own teeth and dress yourself and somehow your hair always looks great. Why would girls think you need to be mothered?”

“I don’t know. But sooner or later girls get tired of me for one reason or another and I’m alone again. I’d like to find somebody. Get married someday, maybe have a kid or two. It would be nice to finally have a family again after being without one for as long as I have.” A tear slipped down Matt’s cheek. Foggy used his non hand-holding hand to wipe it away. 

Matt took a shaky breath and continued. “Normally I hate blind dates. But this girl in one of my classes, Angela, she told me she had this friend, Melanie, who would be perfect for me. And I thought, you know what, I’m in a new phase of my life. I’ll give it a try. So a date is arranged between me and Melanie. I get to the restaurant and she’s waiting there for me. Foggy I could practically hear her disappointment in me when I introduced myself to her. But we sit down and order drinks and the waiter leaves so we can decide what we want to order. There’s no braille for me to be able to read the menu so I ask Melanie what she thinks sounds good. Suddenly Melanie just explodes. She starts going on about how she can’t believe her friend would set her up with a blind guy. She spent three hours fixing her hair, choosing the perfect outfit, getting her makeup just right, and I can’t even appreciate the time and effort she put into it.”

Matt started to sob then, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to,” Foggy said quietly, grabbing one of the unused napkins from the floor and wiping the tears from Matt’s face. 

“No, no I need to,” Matt hiccupped, “I need to finish this.” He got himself under control. “So finally she gets up and storms out of the restaurant. And then I hear everyone else. People whispering about the blind guy who was just yelled at, and shouldn’t someone be helping him? Does he need a cab called for him or a friend? Do blind people even have friends? Foggy this is New York City! I know I am not the only blind person in this city but you’d think I am by the way people were whispering and talking. I don’t know what to do so I throw some money on the table to cover the drinks and get out of there as fast as I can.”

“Dude, you should have called me,” Foggy said. “We could have gone to a bar, gotten drunk, and trash talked that idiot.”

“Honestly Foggy I just wanted to get back here as fast as I could. But when I left the restaurant I heard another familiar voice. It was Angela from my class. And she says, ‘How’d you like your payback?’ I have no clue what she’s talking about and I tell her that. She then jogs my memory. Foggy, this was a girl who I turned down for a one-night stand my second semester of college. Apparently I’m the only guy to ever do that and she didn’t take too kindly to being turned down. So flash forward to this semester, she’s gotten married and has a different last name, and I didn’t recognize her voice because the only conversation we exchanged was her insisting that she could make my wildest fantasies come true and me saying no thanks.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Foggy said. “Let me get this straight. This girl, who you turned down four years ago for a one-night stand, set you up with someone she knew would be mad that you’re blind, just to get back at you?”

“Yep,” Matt said, sighing.

“First of all,” Foggy said, “I hope we never have to face her in court someday because she is ruthless. Second of all, why would this girl set her friend up with you? She was also hurting her friend, not just you.”

“Apparently these two girls are long-time enemies, I don’t know over what. Angela said she approached Melanie and told her she wanted to put the past in the past and try and be mature adults and maybe even friends one day. And she knew the perfect law student to set Melanie up with. I hope Melanie confronts Angela about this."

"Do you think they’ll chick fight?” Foggy asked.

Matt laughed. “I don’t know but if I hear of anything about to go down, I’ll let you know.” Matt suddenly turned serious again. “Foggy, about last night….”

“You don’t have to say a word,” Foggy said, squeezing Matt’s hand again. “You were upset and I was trying to push you into sharing something you weren’t ready to share yet.”

“That’s still no excuse for being rude to you. You’re my…..you’re my best friend,” Matt said, his voice halting slightly. Matt couldn’t bring himself to tell Foggy that he was the first and only best friend he had ever had. Maybe someday he would tell him, but not today. Matt leaned his head on Foggy’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“You ok?” Foggy asked, concern in his voice.

“Getting a headache,” Matt replied.

“Come on,” Foggy said, tugging Matt off the floor and leading him to bed. “Lie down and I’ll get you some Tylenol and water.”

Matt sat down on his bed and listened to the sounds of Foggy rummaging through the first aid supplies he had. Matt soon felt the bed dip beneath Foggy’s weight. Foggy handed him two pills and a bottle of water, then set the bottle on Matt’s bedside table while Matt laid down.

“Hey Matt, don’t worry about these girls, ok? Someday you’re going to meet a beautiful, smart, funny, kind woman who doesn’t see Blind Matt Murdock, or Matt Murdock who happens to be blind. She’s only going to see Matt Murdock, handsome, smart, funny, kind, and who has impeccable taste in friends.”

Matt laughed a little. “You think so Foggy?”

“I know so,” he said. Foggy smoothed Matt’s hair off his forehead, then took his hand and gave it another quick squeeze. “Just rest for a little while and let me know if you need anything.”

Matt felt Foggy’s weight leave the bed and he could hear him begin to clean up the pizza and soda cans from the floor. There were times when Matt really felt like he must have done something early in his life to piss God off since everyone he ever loved had died or left, plus the whole being blind thing. But he knew God didn’t work like that and, even though Matt had suffered through a lot of loss early in his life, he was certainly enjoying the friend God had sent him in one Franklin “Foggy” Nelson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but my brain slipped and made Matt cry. :-)


	3. All I Want for Christmas Is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt goes home with Foggy for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was pretty rough on Matt in the last chapter so I thought I would let him have a little happiness in this one. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, comments are my crack, so please don't hesitate!

“Are you sure your parents are ok with this?” Matt asked, as the taxi pulled up in front of Foggy’s parent’s house. 

“Matt, they’re fine with this. Heck, they’re still pissed that you didn’t come home with me for Thanksgiving. They don’t quite understand that having 30 Nelsons in one place is a little overwhelming for anyone. Add to that,” Foggy continued as he and Matt pulled their duffel bags out of the taxi’s trunk and Foggy handed some money to the driver, “the fact that you would have been trying to navigate an unfamiliar house around 27 people you’ve never met, and I don’t blame you one bit for deciding to stay in the dorms during Thanksgiving break. Dude, if they weren’t my family, who I have to be nice to if I want to hope for wads of cash stuffed in Happy Graduation Cards in a few years, I would have stayed right there with you.”

Matt and Foggy made their way up the steps to the front stoop of the brownstone. “But it’s just going to be you and your dad and your mom, right?” Matt asked.

“Yep. The only reason there were so many people here at Thanksgiving is because we hadn’t had a family reunion in several years. This was planned way back in July when my cousin Abigail had her first child. Abby said she wanted her daughter to get to experience all the Nelsons in one place. Personally, I think she was just hoping for more presents for the kid.”

“And?” Matt asked, waiting for Foggy to find the right key and unlock the door. “Did the kid get a lot of presents?”

Foggy laughed as he pushed open the door and stepped inside. “There’s one step up into the entryway,” Foggy warned Matt, as Matt followed behind him. “And yes, she made out like a bandit. I’m pretty sure a couple relatives took out second mortgages on their homes in order to buy stuff for the kid.” 

Matt stopped in the entryway with Foggy so they could remove their scarves and coats, hanging them in the closet, and Matt concentrated on the environment around him. Going into someplace new was always a little overwhelming at first, but Foggy had warned him about a few things ahead of time. Like how his mom liked to put cinnamon and sugar on a parchment covered baking sheet and bake it in the oven to put the scent of cookies in the air. And there was also the issue of his dad falling asleep in front of the tv and snoring. His sister also had a tendency to play what she called “old-school teeny bopper music” such as Brittany Spears, The Backstreet Boys, and Hanson. 

Speaking of Foggy’s sister, “Your sister’s really not going to be here for Christmas?” Matt asked, while Foggy dug around in the back of the closet muttering about how his parents always hid presents in that closet. 

“No,” Foggy said, finally giving up on finding anything. “Mom and Dad were upset at first that she was going to Europe over Christmas with her roommate and her parents, but they understand this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her. I mean, how many college students have a roommate whose parents are willing to pay for a roundtrip ticket to London and 10 days in a fancy hotel? All she has to spend money on is meals, which her roommate’s parents will probably help cover some of, and anything she wants to buy.”

“Do you think she’ll bring you back anything?” Matt asked as Foggy led him towards the living room.

“Well, I asked for a hot girlfriend from Paris, so we’ll see,” Foggy replied, laughing. His laughter was cut short however when he saw what his parents had done to the living room. Matt could tell something was wrong.

“What is it?” Matt asked, suddenly worried that he was going to be spending the next week tripping over furniture and boxes, and, oh no, Foggy’s parents weren’t hoarders were they with stuff stacked precariously everywhere?

“The furniture,” Foggy said. “They moved it out of the center of the room and pushed it all along the walls. I guess to help you get around easier, but what if the power goes out or I have to come in here in the dark for some reason? I’m not going to know where anything is! I could go to sit on the couch and end up on the floor! It’s not funny!” Foggy insisted when Matt started giggling.

“First of all, if the power does go out, I’m sure your parents have flashlights or candles somewhere. Second, that was really nice of them to do that for me. Third,” Matt held out his cane to Foggy,” do you want to borrow this? You know. Just in case the power goes out and there are no flashlights or candles to be found.”

“Careful Murdock, or I’ll whump you upside the head with your own cane. Also, I’m shaking my fist at you in a very cartoonish manner,” Foggy said, trying to be serious but joining Matt in laughing instead.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Matt replied, poking Foggy in the stomach with his cane. 

After they had both gotten their laughter under control, Foggy led Matt to a room directly across the hall from the living room. “This is where you’ll be staying,” Foggy said, feeling Matt’s grip tighten a little bit on his elbow. “All the furniture has been pushed to the walls.” Foggy then led Matt around the room in a clockwise direction, beginning and ending at the door, so he could get a feel for where the bed, dresser, small closet, desk and chair, and window were. “If you step out the door into the hallway, the bathroom on this floor is the very next door on your left. It has an older tub with a shower attached to it so it’s a little bit less of a step up to get in, compared to the bathroom upstairs Mom and Dad had remodeled when I was in high school.” 

Matt was genuinely very pleased that Foggy’s parents had gone to the trouble of setting things up so it would be easier for him to get around. He had met them once before, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. They were going to a home goods store to look at paint samples since they wanted to do a little redecorating as their Christmas present to each other this year and, since there were no classes the week of Thanksgiving, had swung by their dorm early that afternoon to pick up Foggy and have some alone time with him before relatives began arriving that Wednesday. Foggy’s mom, who Matt hadn’t even realized until several weeks after meeting Foggy wasn’t actually his biological mother since he always just called her Mom, had brought along a treat for Matt.

“Since it seems my Foggy can’t convince you to spend Thanksgiving with us instead of this postage stamp sized dorm room, I thought you might at least enjoy a little Thanksgiving pie,” she said, pressing a container into Matt’s hands. “I didn’t know what you liked best, so there’s a piece of pumpkin with a little whipped cream on the side, minced meat, and apple,” she continued as Matt opened the container and he smelled the amazing scents of apples and cinnamon. “Hey!” Foggy’s mom said suddenly, and he heard a slap. “Leave that pie alone! You’ll get pie on Thursday. That’s for Matt.” Matt then realized Foggy must have been trying to sneak a bite of the pie himself and his Mom had smacked his hand away. 

“Thank you Mrs. Nelson. This was very kind of you,” Matt said.

“You’re quite welcome and please, call us Edward and Anna,” Foggy’s mom said.

Foggy’s mom and dad stayed around the dorm for another half hour or so, talking to Matt and getting to know him a little better, before they decided they should get going if they wanted to have time to get to the store before they needed to head home and continue preparations for the arrival of 27 more Nelsons. Matt had eaten his fair share of pie through the years. People always donated extra money and food to the orphanage around the holidays, so they always had either pumpkin or apple each year, and he had eaten pie at restaurants before. But this, this was the best pie he had ever had.

Matt suddenly realized Foggy was talking to him. “Do you want to go upstairs for a quick tour or get settled down here first?”

“I’ll do a quick tour upstairs,” Matt said, reaching out for Foggy’s elbow. 

“Fourteen steps,” Foggy said, when they reached the stairs. While Matt could navigate stairs with his cane, he could go up and down them much faster if he knew how many steps there were and count them as he walked. “There’s not much up here. My parents have two rooms no one else is allowed to go into. One is their bedroom. The other is, supposedly, a room where Mom works on her crafting and Dad on his hobbies. When all the Nelsons were here over Thanksgiving my 15 year old cousin David swears he got a quick look in there when Mom was coming out and that it’s really their sex room. I know that’s not true because that would imply that my parents have sex and I’d like to believe they’re the sort of people who no longer do that sort of thing. Especially with me just down the hall.”

Matt laughed as Foggy led him down the hallway pointing out the two forbidden rooms, doors closed, his sister’s room, also door closed, the bathroom, a hall closet that, when he was a kid Foggy swore elves lived in, and then finally his room. Matt heard Foggy toss his duffel bag on his bed. “My furniture’s all over the place. Sorry,” he said. “I figured we’d spend most of our time downstairs and I’d just come up here to sleep.”

“It’s ok,” Matt said, feeling for the bed and sitting down. “Would you describe your room to me? Do you have any posters on the walls? Pictures of high school friends? Trophies, mementos, books, or magazines?”

“Yeah, there’s still all kinds of stuff in here that Mom and Dad haven’t packed away yet, but I didn’t take to the dorm with me either.” Foggy then started describing the posters on the wall, the calendar that was still on August 2007, the month he had moved into the dorms as a college freshman, a couple trophies, and a few keepsakes from trips he’d been on, both the school field trip and trips with friends variety. Every so often he handed Matt something as he was talking about it so Matt could feel the shape and texture. 

Matt felt a little jealous that he didn’t really have any mementos or decorations since he never had much before his dad died and the nuns at the orphanage always discouraged the kids from spending any money they might have on frivolous items. But he was in too good of a mood to let anything bother him today. They had gotten their grades e-mailed to them earlier that day before they left the dorm and he had made all A’s. Foggy had made one B and the rest were A’s for him as well. Christmas was only a couple days away and, for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to Christmas and having something to do besides attend Midnight Mass and then go home to unwrap the one present he always bought for himself and had gift wrapped under the pretense of buying it for someone else. It was never a surprise and usually something practical, like a shirt or new set of pillowcases, but it made him feel a little normal as he would take the wrapping paper off his present to himself.

Foggy and Matt both heard the front door open and close. “Mom and Dad are home,” Foggy said, waiting for Matt to take his elbow so he could lead him downstairs. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can talk Mom into baking Christmas cookies.”

Two days later, December 24, Matt was certain of two things. First, he was pretty sure Foggy’s mom put crack in her Christmas cookies. They weren’t just delicious, they were addictive. Matt tried to eat fairly healthy foods but he must have eaten at least two dozen cookies over the past couple days. 

He was also certain that the Nelsons were the most amazing family he had ever met. Edward and Anna never once made Matt feel like he was any trouble when it would take him a few extra seconds to figure out where he was going, or he had to ask which cabinet the mugs were in because he wanted to make some hot chocolate for him and Foggy. He also liked that, when he had to ask about something like the mugs, they never made him feel like he couldn’t find the item on his own. Foggy’s mom, who didn’t even look up from the book she was reading on the couch in the living room, simply said, “Bottom shelf, third cabinet door to the right of the refrigerator. Don’t use the one with the chip in it for Foggy. He’s been convinced since he was nine years old that hot liquids will somehow make another chip magically fall off in his mouth and cut his tongue off.” Matt filed that little piece of information away for future reference, whether for good or evil he would have to decide on later. 

Then there was the first sit-down meal they had together the day they arrived from the dorms. Matt asked if it would be ok with them if he prayed before he ate and he could say it silently if it bothered them, he wouldn’t mind. Not only were they ok with it, but Foggy’s dad told Foggy he better not put those mashed potatoes in his mouth yet, Matt was going to pray to God and he didn’t think God wanted to listen to Foggy’s chewing while Matt prayed. Each meal they ate together after that over the next two days began with Matt praying and the Nelsons chiming in on the Amen.

So there they all were, Christmas Eve sitting around the tree, eating more cookies and listening to Christmas music. Foggy was telling Matt about the amazing cinnamon rolls his mom always made for Christmas Morning breakfast. Matt jumped in with an, “I LOVE cinnamon rolls,” and Foggy, extremely hyped up on sugar responded back with, “YOU’RE a cinnamon roll!” and proceeded to laugh until he gave himself a coughing fit.

A little while later, after Foggy had finally calmed down some from all the sugar, he asked Matt what time they needed to get to the church to get a good seat for Midnight Mass.

“Oh, you don’t have to go with me,” Matt said. “I don’t want to keep you up too late.”

“Matt, I want to go with you,” Foggy replied. “You’re Catholic and going to Midnight Mass is something you do and I want to experience that, at least once, with you.”

“If you’re sure,” Matt said hesitantly. “It’s usually a really long service and a lot of people will be there.”

“I’m sure,” Foggy said. 

So that’s how they found themselves walking down the sidewalk back to Foggy’s at 2:00 on Christmas Morning. Foggy knew Matt and his dad never did anything too fancy or special for Christmas but he didn’t know if the orphanage had any special activities or not.

As if Matt could read his mind, Foggy heard him say, “We never really did much for Christmas at the orphanage. Being Catholic, we spent the four weeks leading up to it celebrating Advent.”

“Did you guys get a present at least?” Foggy asked.

“Yeah. There was a church that would put a tree up right after Thanksgiving and all us kids would write down one or two things we wanted, on these paper ornaments. It wouldn’t have our name on it, but it would have a number that corresponded with a list the nuns kept. The paper ornaments were then hung on the tree and parishioners would take one, buy the present written on it, wrap it, and place it under the tree at their church. They’d be delivered to the orphanage on December 23 and we’d get them Christmas Morning. We were told we could ask for anything we wanted but we were encouraged to ask for practical things like clothes or toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste?” Foggy asked, laughing.

“Yeah. Helped with the budget if they didn’t have to always buy toiletry items for us. One thing the rest of the kids did get to do was go to this Christmas light display every year at a small park not far from here, actually,” Matt said, suddenly realizing where exactly they were. “Being blind, I never got to go, but apparently businesses ‘rented’ a piece of the park where they could put up a small Christmas display. The rental cost helped pay for the electricity to run the lights between Thanksgiving and New Year’s and any money left over went to a charity. I forget which one.”

“And you never got to go,” Foggy slowly said.

“Nope,” Matt replied. “I know what colors look like and what a lot of different Christmas decorations look like. I remember Christmas stuff from the years before I became blind. But nobody wanted to take the time to describe the scenes to me.”

Foggy suddenly realized that he knew exactly which park Matt was talking about and, oh he had taken a girl there for a date once in high school and he remembered seeing a bunch of kids walking around with nuns. That would have been the same time Matt was in the orphanage and he wondered if it had been St. Agnes’. 

Matt suddenly felt Foggy grab his hand and start pulling him down the sidewalk. “Um, Foggy where are we going in such a hurry?”

“If it’s the one I’m thinking of, the park leaves the lights on all night tonight instead of having them turn off at midnight like they usually do.” Foggy and Matt rounded the corner and there it was, the Christmas light display. Foggy didn’t even ask Matt if he wanted to do this or not. He simply tightened his grip on Matt’s hand and led him over to the first display. “Ok, this one is sponsored by some dentist. It’s a giant tooth with a Santa hat on and the tooth is eating a candy cane that’s lit up with red lights. Ok, that makes no sense why a dentist would encourage a tooth to eat a candy cane, but whatever. I don’t always understand art,” Foggy said, taking his hand out of Matt’s so Matt could simply walk along beside him. 

Foggy was a little surprised, but not much, when Matt whispered, “Don’t,” and found his hand again much more quickly than he thought a blind person would be able to. Foggy didn’t say a word. He just squeezed Matt’s hand and led him to the next display which was a tree wearing headphones and was supposed to look like it was in the middle of some dance. Foggy and Matt debated for several minutes over what song the tree was dancing to. Foggy insisted it would be “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” and Matt thought the tree wouldn’t be so stuck up as to dance to a song about itself. It had to be “Jingle Bell Rock.” 

Foggy and Matt spent 45 minutes wandering through the park, with Foggy describing the various scenes. Some were religious, some were secular, some were hilarious, like the one from McCracken Chiropractic Offices whose slogan was, “Let us crack your back so the muscle spasms don’t attack!” There was even one that showed a Christmas tree that had apparently slid off the roof of someone’s car and had rolled on top of someone. It was basically an advertisement for some law firm called Landman and Zack asking you to think of them if you needed to sue anyone this holiday season. 

By the time they’d made it through all the displays, they were both pretty tired and it had started to snow. Whenever the weather was snowy or icy, Matt was always a little anxious about the sidewalks. He and Foggy were still holding hands and Matt instinctively tightened his grip on Foggy. “Don’t let me fall on a slick spot, ok?”

“I’ve got you buddy, don’t worry,” Foggy said, pulling Matt a little closer to him to help steady him if he did happen to slip. “I don’t want you to have to call whatever law firm that was back there with the person trapped under the runaway tree. What was it again? Linus and Zoey?”

“No, Loonies and Zeus! No that’s not it either,” Matt said, laughing. “I don’t remember their name.”

Foggy and Matt soon found themselves back in the warmth of Foggy’s parent’s house. “Hey, I um, I have a present for you that I’d like to go ahead and give you, if that’s ok,” Foggy said, nervousness evident in his voice.

“Sure, but I don’t have anything extra for you. Just the couple things under the tree.”

“That’s ok,” Foggy said quickly. “I don’t really want to give you this in front of my parents, in case you laugh at it.”

“I promise whatever it is, I won’t laugh,” Matt said.

“Ok, I’ll be right back.”

While Foggy was upstairs getting his present, Matt changed into his pajamas and sat down on his bed. Foggy came back down a few minutes later, also in pajamas. He joined Matt on the bed, both of them sitting cross legged, facing each other. Matt felt a small box being placed in his hand. He opened it and took out his present. It took him a minute to figure out what it was. It was an acorn with a glob of super glue on the top and a string attached to the glue.

“Um, thanks Foggy, but I don’t really, I mean this is definitely unique, but um, the meaning…..” Matt stammered not sure how to say, “I don’t get it,” without hurting Foggy’s feelings.

“Remember when you were so overwhelmed with everything back in October? Between midterms for us and the campus becoming one big party for Homecoming and you almost having a panic attack in front of a tour group of students? So I rented a car and we drove a couple hours north of New York to the country…..”

Matt’s face suddenly brightened with remembering that day. “And I told you how that was my first ever trip out of New York City.”

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Well I knew you didn’t have any, you know, souvenirs from trips so I stuck an acorn in my pocket and tried to superglue the string on top. I figure we can put a thumb tack in the wall, hang it from that, and that can be the first of many souvenirs from the great adventures we’re going to have together.”

“Oh Foggy,” Matt said, startling Foggy a little bit by pulling him into one of the tightest hugs Foggy had ever had and Nelsons, they hugged pretty tightly. Matt finally let go and grasped Foggy’s hand with the one that wasn’t clutching the acorn like it was worth a million dollars. “Thank you for making this the first Christmas I’ve enjoyed since my dad died.” 

“No problem,” Foggy said, keeping a tight hold on Matt’s hand. “Merry Christmas Matt.” 

“Merry Christmas Foggy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen all over Tumblr where people are referring to Charlie Cox, and his character Matt Murdock, as cinnamon rolls. Decided to incorporate it into the story.


	4. An Anchor to the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy brings calmness to Matt's world when he has occasional panic attacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never personally had a panic attack, nor have I ever witnessed one. Hope I got it at least semi-right.

The first time it happened was during Homecoming Weekend of their first semester as law students. Matt and Foggy were headed back to their dorm room after a study session at the library. They had just stepped off the sidewalk and into the crosswalk, exactly where they were supposed to cross, when two pickup trucks with students crammed in the beds pealed out of the parking lot next to one of the dorms and nearly ran them over. Foggy pulled Matt back towards the sidewalk, yelling at the students and using some words that Matt was pretty sure he would have to mention in his next confession to his priest even though all he did was hear them.

“Matt, are you ok?” Foggy asked, kneeling down beside him. Foggy hadn’t fallen because he knew the sidewalk was still right behind them. Matt, however, was thrown off balance when he suddenly went from a forward motion to moving backwards. His heel had caught on the slight rise going from the street to the sidewalk and he had tumbled backwards, cane flying out of his hand in an attempt to keep himself from falling too awkwardly and possibly breaking a bone or hitting his head. 

Matt didn’t answer. He just sat there on the sidewalk and Foggy heard him start saying to himself, “Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.” Matt was repeating that same word over and over again, like a mantra. 

“Matt,” Foggy said putting his hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the health clinic?”

Matt raised his head and turned it slightly to the right. “Oh God,” he thought, when he realized the tour group of prospective students who had been just a few paces behind him and Foggy were still there. Now he could hear them whispering, wondering if they should do anything. “Foggy,” he said, his breathing becoming quicker. “Get me out of here. Please.”

“Ok,” Foggy said, grabbing Matt’s hand and pulling him up. He grabbed the runaway cane from the ground and, placing his arm around Matt’s waist, led him through the crosswalk and then to a bench that was in the shade of several trees. Foggy could hear Matt muttering the word ‘breathe’ to himself again. “Here, sit down,” Foggy instructed, pushing Matt onto the bench. Foggy took Matt’s water bottle out of his backpack and instructed him to drink.

Matt took a tiny sip of the water so he didn’t accidently choke and, after a few seconds, another tiny sip. “I….I think I’m ok now?” Matt said, the statement coming out sounding more like a question than an affirmation that he actually was ok. 

“Are you sure?” Foggy asked, not believing Matt at all that he was ok. 

“Yeah. Can you just take….take me back to the dorm?” Matt said, stuttering slightly and showing he was obviously still a little shaken by the incident. He reached his hand out to Foggy waiting to be helped up.

“Matt! Your hand is all scraped up and bleeding,” Foggy said, looking down at his own hand which had traces of Matt’s blood smeared on it. He guessed he had missed that fact a few minutes ago in the rush to get him away from the tour group and into the shade. 

“My hand will be fine,” Matt said. “I’d just really like to go home right now.”

“Sure, come on,” Foggy said, helping Matt up and then putting his arm around his waist to help lead him back to the dorm. When they arrived back at their room Foggy instructed Matt to sit on his bed and then grabbed the first aid kit his mom had sent with him when he moved in. “This might sting a little,” Foggy warned as he began cleaning Matt’s hand with an antiseptic wipe.

After Foggy finished cleaning the cuts and scrapes on Matt’s hand, he put some antibacterial ointment on a few of the larger wounds and put a couple band aids on them as well.  
“You know, I could be putting Sesame Street band aids on you right now and you would never even know,” Foggy joked. Foggy had hoped for at least a small giggle out of Matt over that image (surely he remembered what Big Bird looks like), but when he heard nothing he looked up from Matt’s hand to find his mouth quivering in an obvious attempt to keep himself from crying.

“I’m sorry I embarrass you,” Matt said quietly, before a couple tears escaped his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

“Hey,” Foggy said, moving the first aid supplies out of the way and pulling Matt into a hug. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about but, whatever is it I’m not embarrassed by you. EVER,” Foggy emphasized. 

“Come on Foggy. When you decided to go to law school, having a blind guy as your roommate was not what you were hoping for, was it?” Matt asked, groping around on his bedside table for his box of tissues. 

Foggy grabbed the box of tissues off the table and pressed it into Matt’s hands. “No, that’s not what I was hoping for. I was hoping I would get an awesome roommate who wasn’t too much of a slob, was smart so I would have someone to study with, was kind, funny, nice, and not too much better looking than me. You are all of those things, except you’re actually way more handsome than I could ever dream of being. Basically Matt, I lucked out in the roommate department.”

Matt took a couple deep breaths and Foggy recognized that as Matt’s way of building up his courage to say something that he was afraid Foggy might laugh at or not understand. Finally he said, “It’s just too much right now.”

“What’s too much?” Foggy asked, confused.

“Everything right now. Midterms and how this whole campus has turned into one big party for Homecoming and all the commotion and extra people with tour groups and alumni here this weekend and there are times when I feel like I can’t maneuver around this campus anymore. It’s really scary to go from being so confident that I’m an independent blind person to suddenly not being sure if I’m going to make it to class on time because there’s some sort of alumni tent that’s popped up right in the middle of the sidewalk so people who graduated from here 50 years ago can meet and swap stories about their grandkids. And I get that midterms have to happen. And that Homecoming is something a lot of people really look forward to every year. But it’s too many changes that just popped up overnight Foggy and I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this weekend without just shutting myself in here and,” Matt took a shaky breath, “Foggy, it’s one thing to deliberately keep myself in the room to study or because I have a headache. But I don’t want to feel like I have no choice but to stay in here all weekend.”

Foggy was silent for a couple minutes. Matt began to be afraid that he had shared too much too soon with him. After all, they’d only been roommates for a couple months. “Well that’s not a bad price,” Foggy suddenly said.

“What’s not a bad price?” Matt asked, his heart sinking when he realized that Foggy must have been looking on Amazon or something on his smartphone the whole time he had been opening himself up.

“For a rental car,” Foggy said. He looked at Matt and said, “I don’t know about you but I could sure use a little time out of the city after we finish our midterms tomorrow. You and me buddy. We’ll eat junk food and watch one of those movies with that audio description stuff that helps you visualize what’s going on and just spend a night in tomorrow night instead of at a bar. Then Saturday morning, when campus really becomes one big party, I can drive us a couple hours north of here. I know you won’t be able to see the countryside yourself, but I can describe it to you. There’s several parks that have really nice flat walking trails, nothing difficult at all. And Matt, fall in the country just smells amazing. How about it? Get out of the craziness for a day and enjoy nature?

Matt didn’t even hesitate with his answer. “That sounds great Foggy.” He even managed a small smile. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If I need a band aid, use Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles instead of Sesame Street, ok?”

“You got it,” Foggy said.

After that first incident of the almost panic attack, Foggy made sure to keep an extra close eye on Matt anytime something big was about to start or change, either in their lives or with the campus in general. When the campus blocked off a square mile of sidewalks and grassy areas in between the library and their dorm one weekend during their second year of law school, Foggy got a panicked call from Matt who had tried to go around it but had ended up wandering off to a section of campus he had never been before. The university was having some sort of block party to promote the upcoming football game against one of Columbia University’s biggest rivals but, with neither Matt nor Foggy being into football, both had failed to realize it was that weekend. He had found Matt sitting on the steps of one of the science buildings and it had taken Foggy several minutes of talking to Matt to get him to calm down.

Fortunately, calming Matt down was something that just seemed to come naturally to Foggy. The level of panic Matt reached was usually influenced by two things. The first was how drastic and quickly some sort of change occurred. Blocking off sections of campus or suddenly being inundated with a ton of extra people on campus was harder on Matt than a change in the syllabus for one of his classes. 

The second thing that influenced the level of panic Matt might reach was how quickly Foggy could get to him to help him start calming down. One time Matt had received an e-mail from his professor informing the class that she had found a chapter in a book everyone needed to read by the next class period. Since the library only had three copies, she had placed the books on reserve in the reading room. The copies of the books could not leave the reading room. Matt had begun to panic when he realized he wouldn’t be able to read the chapter. Fortunately, Foggy was also in their room and had quickly reminded Matt that he could call Student Disability Services and they could figure something out for him. In the end, after one phone call from Matt, SDS contacted the library and said that Matthew Murdock would have permission to take the book out of the reading room for no longer than 60 minutes so the pages could be scanned as a PDF file that was readable by his screen reader. Matt was embarrassed over that one since he should have immediately thought of calling SDS himself but Foggy just waved it off dismissively. 

Foggy had essentially become Matt’s anchor to the world whenever something happened that caused him to begin panicking. Most episodes weren’t too bad, especially since Matt and Foggy spent a lot of their free time together. Matt knew Foggy had friends besides him, and even though he would never admit this to Foggy, he still carried a small fear of Foggy deciding he’d rather hang out with people who weren’t blind and their friendship would dissolve into nothing more than being roommates who got along. But Foggy chose to spend most of his free time with Matt and having him around was the tether that kept him grounded at times when panic normally would have overtaken him. 

Matt had been doing fairly well their second semester of their second year. It was the end of February and, so far, he hadn’t panicked yet that semester. Foggy was sitting in his room trying to come up with a good defense for the mock trial that was going to be held in one of his classes after spring break. His head jerked up when he heard someone pounding on his door. He opened it to find Jason, a first year law student who lived one floor up, standing there with a panicked look on his face.

Before Foggy had a chance to say anything Jason blurted out, “Your roommate’s locked himself in the bathroom on the third floor of Johnson Hall. I think he’s having some sort of panic attack. When someone said they were going to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital, he started freaking out even more.” 

Foggy didn’t even know how he managed to think clearly enough to grab his keys and jacket and then lock the door before taking off down the hall, forgoing the elevator to take the stairs down two at a time and sprint across campus. Foggy wasn’t sedentary but he also was certainly no athlete. By the time he got to Johnson Hall, he should have been ready to collapse from lack of breath but adrenaline pushed him forward through the door and up the stairwell to the third floor. It took him a minute to find the bathroom since this was a building he had never had a class in. 

“Can anyone get the door open?” Foggy asked, panting and out of breath when he saw the crowd gathered outside the door. 

A guy spoke up. “I was able to pick the lock on the door handle but as soon as someone started to go in, he yelled at them to get out. Do you know him? Dude, what’s wrong with him?”

It took everything in Foggy to not yell, “Nothing is wrong with him!” Instead he opened the bathroom door and slipped inside. He saw Matt lying in the fetal position on the floor. At first he was afraid that Matt had fallen or hit his head. Foggy knelt down.

“Matt?” Foggy asked, touching Matt gently on the shoulder. “Matt, it’s ok. I’m here.” Foggy decided now was not the time to ask Matt why he had panicked. He would worry about that later, after Matt was safely back in their dorm. Right now Foggy just wanted to make sure Matt wasn’t physically hurt.

“Foggy?” Matt finally said after a couple long minutes. 

“Yeah. Yeah buddy, I’m here,” Foggy said sitting down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. “I’m right here.”

He saw Matt reach his hand out. “Don’t leave me,” Matt pleaded, groping around for Foggy’s hand. Foggy grabbed it and Matt tightened his grip. “Please, just, I need to….need to figure out how to breathe again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Foggy said. Foggy really wanted to take his jacket off and put it under Matt’s head and get a wet paper towel for his forehead, but he knew he would have to let go of Matt’s hand in order to do that so he settled for alternating between rubbing Matt’s back and smoothing the hair off his forehead. The door opened a couple times while they were still in there but as soon as Foggy shot the person a look that clearly meant, “Get out or I will drop kick you out of here,” the person always left in a hurry.  
Finally, about 20 minutes later Matt said, “Foggy please take me home.”

“Of course. Can you walk?” Foggy asked, not real sure what he would do if Matt said no.

Matt pushed himself into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah I can walk.”

“Ok,” Foggy said, pulling Matt up. “Let’s get your coat on you.” Foggy helped Matt into his coat, handed him his cane and sunglasses, and then grabbed his backpack and put it on his own back. He slipped his arm around Matt’s waist and led him out into the hallway, glad to see that the crowd had dispersed. He was surprised that nobody had called the campus police but was grateful that they hadn’t. They would have wanted to take Matt to the hospital, or at least the campus health clinic, and that would have sent Matt into even more of a panic. 

Foggy led Matt through the campus back to their dorms. Foggy did notice that he and Matt walking across campus with their arms around each other didn’t draw nearly the attention it did last year at this time. Matt and Foggy were both well-liked and well-known, especially in this part of campus where the law and med school students’ dorms were located, and people had gotten used to seeing Foggy and Matt together more often than apart. 

Matt almost started to panic again when Foggy removed his arm from around his waist when they arrived back in their dorm. “Hey, hey, hey,” Foggy said in a gentle voice. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving the room. I just want you to take your coat off before you overheat.” After Matt had shrugged out of his coat and kicked his shoes off, Foggy made him lie down on his bed. Foggy placed his hand on Matt’s forehead so he could feel his touch and said, “I’m going to get a bottle of water for you, ok? I’ll be right here in the room and I will be right back.” Matt nodded. 

Foggy grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and made his way back to Matt’s bed. “Here, drink a little water,” Foggy said, helping Matt sit up and then propping his pillows behind his back. Matt took a few tiny sips of water. Foggy then saw Matt reaching out with his hand, searching for Foggy’s. Foggy sat beside Matt on the bed and took his hand. He knew physical touch was one of the ways that Matt kept himself grounded when coming down from, or trying to prevent, a panic attack.

They sat in silence for almost a half an hour, Matt gripping Foggy’s hand tightly enough that Foggy was beginning to lose feeling, but he didn’t dare say anything to Matt. He knew Matt needed that physical touch and comfort, an anchor to the world, to keep from spiraling into another attack. Matt would let go when he was ready. Foggy also didn’t ask Matt what was wrong. He knew he would share when he was ready.

Foggy thought that Matt had fallen asleep, when Matt took a deep breath and said, “I didn’t know the answer to three questions. There were only 10 on the entire test. I tried to say a few things that sounded lawerish but I know the answers weren’t anywhere near correct. Missing three questions automatically makes my grade a 70%. Foggy, that’s an F in this class. Foggy I fai…f….failed.” He took a deep shuddering breath and then began to cry harder than Foggy had ever seen him cry before.

Foggy grabbed Matt and pulled him into a hug. “It’ll be ok Matt, it’ll be ok. Doing badly on one test doesn’t mean you’ll fail the class. You might get a B instead of an A, but you’ll still pass.” Foggy then pressed his lips to Matt’s forehead in a friendly and comforting kiss, hoping the extra physical connection and comfort would prevent Matt from spiraling into another panic attack. Foggy knew if he couldn’t keep Matt calmed down, he would have to call the campus police and have him taken to the hospital where they could calm him down with medication. 

“I know,” Matt said in a shaky breath. “I just don’t understand how I could not know such a huge chunk of information. I spent hours on the material for that test.”

Foggy rubbed his hand up and down Matt’s back in a soothing manner. “How about tomorrow you go talk to your professor and see if she has any suggestions for future tests. Or if there’s any extra credit you can do.”

“Foggy, this is law school. There is no such thing as extra credit.”

Foggy tightened his grip on Matt. “It’ll be ok. You’ll get through this.” Foggy held Matt for several more minutes before Matt declared that he needed to use the restroom. When he came out several minutes later, he had changed into a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. 

“I think I’m going to take a nap,” Matt said.

“That’s a good idea,” Foggy said, standing up from Matt’s bed so he could pull the covers down.

“Foggy,” Matt said, reaching out for his hand. “Would you? I mean, if it’s not too weird…..?”

Foggy knew exactly what Matt wanted, and needed, right then. “Yeah. Let me use the bathroom and change, ok.”

Foggy used the restroom and then changed into his own pair of pajama pants and t shirt. He then got into the other side of the very small twin bed. Matt was lying on his left side, so Foggy laid on his right, facing each other. Matt reached out and grabbed Foggy’s hand. “I’m right here,” Foggy said. “Go to sleep. I won’t leave you until you tell me to.” Foggy lay awake until he heard the steady, even breathing that meant Matt had fallen asleep. Only then did he allow himself to close his eyes. Neither one let go of each other’s hand the entire time they slept.

Two days later, Matt received an e-mail from his professor saying she was so sorry, but she sent the wrong test to Disability Testing Services and the three questions he knew nothing about were for the third year students focusing in that area of law. She was going to strike those from the grade and he had received full marks for the other questions. This time, when Matt cried and Foggy hugged him, they were tears of joy and a happy embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really been enjoying writing these chapters. I'll be a little sad to see this end after two more.


	5. Fever & Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt comes down with the flu and Foggy takes care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to get this chapter up. Life got really busy for a little while for me. Also, comments are my crack so feel free to say what you think!

“Hey Foggy,” Matt said, as they walked across the campus late one evening in the search for some delicious hamburgers. “Why did you ask me if I get the spins? You know I get dizzy."

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “When you’re sick. But I’ve always thought there was a difference between, you know, sick dizzy and ‘the spins.’”

“I don’t know about that,” Matt said, feeling Foggy tug on his arm and steer him around something. “All I know is there are times when I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall off the earth.”

“Yeah,” Foggy laughed. “Like earlier this semester?”

“Shut up,” Matt said, good-naturedly knowing exactly what Foggy was referring to.

“Dude, you were begging me not to let you end up on the moon,” Foggy laughed.

“I wasn’t begging,” Matt replied, laughing. “I just, you know, would rather stay here on Earth than go to the moon. It’s probably lonely up there.”

“Yeah, but think of all the studying you could get done without any interruptions,” Foggy said, obviously poking fun of Matt and how studying would be every other task on his to-do list, if he were to keep such a list.

“But you’re not on the moon, Foggy,” Matt replied smiling in Foggy’s general direction. “And I wouldn’t give up my best friend for all the uninterrupted study time in the world.”

“Thanks,” Foggy said.

“I was kind of a pain in the butt when I was sick, wasn’t I?” Matt asked.

“No you weren’t” Foggy said. “You just really felt like crap and wanted some comfort. A lot of people want that when they’re sick. You were just lucky enough to have me as your comfort!” Foggy exclaimed. Matt and Foggy both laughed at that as they remembered back to earlier that semester.

It had started with a tickle in Matt’s throat which should have been his first warning. Foggy had had a few allergy issues in the apartment they had just moved into a few weeks earlier, but over the counter medications had helped those and Matt hadn’t had any issues so far with the new place. Foggy and Matt had decided not to live in the dorms their third and final year of law school. They knew this would be a tough year, with both of them taking advanced courses for the kind of law they wanted to specialize in, as well as beginning their studies for the bar exam. Unfortunately, the first apartment they had rented together had been in a building full of college students, so it wasn’t much better than the dorms. This apartment, though a bit out of their price range, was much quieter. To afford the rent they had to start buying cheaper beer and generic groceries. Matt, unlike Foggy, was used to not having a lot of comfort items. Foggy however never seemed to miss an opportunity to complain about some of the things they had to give up in order to afford the rent.

“Frozen pizza instead of delivery,” and, “I can’t believe I’m going to miss Shark Week on the Discovery Channel,” were two of Foggy’s favorite complaints. Matt usually just smiled and went back to his reading letting Foggy complain and simply tuning him out.

Matt had woken up one bitterly cold Thursday February morning with a slightly scratchy throat and a tickle he just couldn’t get rid of, no matter how many times he cleared his throat. His alarm clock stated it was 8:00 a.m. He and Foggy didn’t have class until 11:00 that day, so he contemplated snuggling back under the blankets and sleeping for a little while longer, but the responsibility part of his brain decided it would be better if he got up and got a quick workout at the gym out of the way.

Matt should have known he was coming down with something when ten minutes into his workout he was already tired and his muscles were aching. He chalked it up to the cold morning instead and spent some extra time on stretching. He cursed to himself, then made a note to go to confession soon, when he stepped out of the gym and discovered it was sleeting. He thought about catching a cab but the apartment was only three blocks away and he thought the extra walking would help make up a little bit of the time he hadn’t spent on cardio that morning. By the time he got back to his and Foggy’s apartment, he was freezing and wanted nothing more than to take a long hot shower and crawl back into bed, but he knew a quick shower would have to suffice. With it sleeting, it would become more difficult to catch a cab and neither he nor Foggy could afford to miss their 11:00 class. 

“Morning,” Foggy said from the kitchen where he was eating a bowl of generic cereal. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, finding the bottle of orange juice and pouring himself a glass. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just look a little off,” Foggy replied, watching Matt wince a little bit as he drank the juice. “Sore throat?”

“It’s nothing. Just some irritation from the cold weather,” Matt said, dumping the rest of the glass of orange juice down the drain and setting the glass in the sink to be washed later. “I’m going to take a quick shower then we should probably catch a cab and get to Columbia. It’s sleeting so it might take a little while longer.”

“Sounds good,” Foggy said, noting how Matt had seemed a little slower than usual, and a little more off as he almost walked into the wall, and decided he was going to have to keep a close eye on him in case he was sick. 

Matt gave in and popped a couple of ibuprofen before getting in the shower. He leaned against the wall and let the hot water run over his body and aching muscles. “I am not getting sick, I am not getting sick, I am not getting sick,” Matt thought to himself, over and over. Matt knew he couldn’t afford to be sick right now, both monetarily and life-wise. Money wise he knew there wasn’t any extra money in his bank account to pay for even a walk-in clinic visit, much less his real doctor who he hadn’t seen since right before enrolling in law school. He had only gone then because Columbia required a doctor’s signature that he didn’t have any communicable diseases and that he was up-to-date on his immunizations since he was going to be living in the dorms. Life wise, there was just too much going on that he knew he couldn’t miss class without missing something important.

When the water started to run cool instead of hot, Matt stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Boy that towel was soft. He could practically feel himself just wrapping his aching body up in it and curling up on the mat right outside the shower. He didn’t even realize he’d sat down until he felt the squishy mat beneath him and he silently blessed Foggy for insisting they buy the slightly more expensive but amazing bath mat that your feet sunk down into every time you stepped out of the shower. 

Matt didn’t even realize he must have fallen asleep until he heard Foggy pounding on the bathroom door. “Matt! Matt! Are you dressed? We need to get going if we’re going to make it to class on time.”

Matt groggily wiped his eyes and knew there was no way he was going to be able to sneak the fact that he wasn’t feeling well past Foggy if he let Foggy see him like this. So he shouted back through the door, as loudly as his sore throat would let him, “Yeah, I’m almost ready. Hey, why don’t you go ahead to class. I’m a little slow this morning apparently. I’ll be there in a little bit but there’s no reason for both of us to be late.”

Matt could practically feel Foggy’s hesitation through the door. “Are you sure? I can wait,” Foggy said. “I know it’s harder for you to get around in the winter weather since you can’t always tell if there’s a slick spot or ice on the sidewalks.”

“I’ll be ok,” Matt called back, wanting Foggy to just leave so he could curl up inside the towel again.

“Ok,” Foggy said, clearly very hesitant at leaving Matt alone. “If you need anything, call me and I’ll come right back.”

“Sure thing,” Matt yelled, wincing at the pain in his throat and at how his and Foggy’s yelling through the door had started to make his head hurt. He waited until he heard Foggy leave through the front door before pulling himself up off the bathroom floor and made his way to his bedroom, leaning against the wall the entire time. 

When he finally made it to his bedroom, he was tempted to just crawl back under the covers and forget about life and sleep but he knew he had to make it to class. “First thing’s first,” he thought to himself. “Pants. No, underwear before pants. That’s right, right? Yeah, underwear before pants,” Matt finally decided in his head. Matt pulled a pair of underwear out of his dresser and managed to get them on without falling completely onto the floor. “Wow this bed is comfortable,” Matt thought as he sat on the bed in nothing but his underwear, hair still dripping wet from the shower. “Maybe I’ll lie down for just a couple quick minutes.”

Matt swore he was only going to close his eyes for a couple minutes. Instead, he woke up to find Foggy attempting to pull a t shirt over his head. Matt opened his mouth, intending to ask Foggy what he was doing, but instead all that came out was a groan. Matt’s entire body felt like it had just gone through 12 boxing rounds. His head was pounding, his throat was dry and on fire, muscles he didn’t even know he had were aching worse than ever before, and the world was spinning, making him feel like he was on a very bad carnival ride, or at least what he could remember of the few rides he had been on before the accident when he was a child. The spinning didn’t help the feeling he had in his stomach that the little orange juice and water he had drunk earlier were going to come back up.

“You ok? You look a little green around the gills,” Foggy said, finally getting Matt’s t shirt on him. 

“Trash can,” Matt managed to get out. Foggy grabbed the can and thrust it into Matt’s hands, and not a second too soon. What little was in Matt’s stomach came up and into the trash can. Matt could feel tears leaking from his eyes and then he felt Foggy’s hand on his back, strong and reassuring, rubbing small circles as he debated whether or not he was done throwing up. When he finally decided his stomach was done, at least for the time being, he fumbled with the trash can and felt it being taken from his hands by Foggy, his best friend, who had just witnessed him throwing up. “S…ssss…..sorry,” Matt said, teeth chattering when he realized just how cold he was.

“It’s ok,” Foggy said, setting the trash can down, far enough away so he wouldn’t accidently knock it over, but in an obvious enough place that he would remember to take it out of the room and clean it. 

“What time is it?” Matt asked. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I never managed to get a cab. The sleet’s really coming down. Besides, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with you this morning.” Matt felt himself being pushed down on his bed, and the pillows felt so soft and comfortable under his pounding head. “Came back upstairs to find you lying on your bed in nothing but your underwear, which you have on backwards by the way but you can take care of that later, and shivering. Somehow managed to get some sweat pants on you and was halfway through getting your t shirt on you when you woke up and threw up.”

“Sorry,” Matt said again, feeling Foggy’s hand on his forehead, his cheek, gently pressing on his throat. He winced.

“Sorry,” Foggy said. “The glands in your throat feel really swollen. I’ll be right back.” Matt nodded and lay miserably in bed waiting for Foggy to come back. A few minutes later, he felt the mattress dip again as Foggy sat beside him. “Open up. I want to see how high your fever is,” Foggy said. Matt opened his mouth and felt the thermometer being placed under his tongue. While they waited for it to beep Foggy smoothed Matt’s still damp hair off his forehead. Matt leaned into Foggy’s touch.

Since they had first been assigned as roommates almost three years ago, Foggy and Matt had gotten very comfortable with physical touch between the two of them. They both knew a huge part of it was the fact that Foggy often helped Matt get around campus and the city. Matt could navigate areas just fine, especially if they were familiar to him, but he liked knowing that someone else was looking out for him. He leaned his head into Foggy’s hand and felt Foggy’s thumb gently rub his cheek. 

Though neither would admit it, they also liked the fact that both of them seemed to enjoy having that physical connection that a lot of college guys tended to shy away from. Foggy had grown up in a family that was all about hugging and Matt, well, Matt cherished the physical contact that he never got very much of after his dad had died. His dad was never as physically comforting as a mother might have been, but he would give Matt “manly” hugs and high fives and would kiss the top of his head before leaving for a boxing match. The nuns, well, there were a lot of kids in the orphanage and Matt knew they had to spend more of their time with the really little kids who didn’t understand what was going on than with the older ones who could grasp the concept of parents dying or leaving them, even though it was still upsetting.

Matt heard the thermometer beep and opened his mouth slightly so Foggy could pull it out. “102.7,” Foggy said. “Have you taken anything?”

“Ibuprofen,” Matt said, wincing at the pain in his throat. 

“Ok,” Foggy said, and then Matt heard the scratch of pen on paper. “I’m just writing this down,” Foggy said. “My mom used to make sure to write down when we took meds and how much and how high our fevers were, whenever my sister or I were sick. Helped to make sure she didn’t give us too much of something too close together and to kind of keep an eye on our fever. If it went too high too fast, she’d know to call our doctor and ask if we needed to go to the ER.”

“Did you ever have to go?” Matt asked.

“Once, when I was 14. On the upside, the ER nurse was really hot,” Foggy said. Matt felt the blankets being pulled over him and then a cool cloth being placed on his forehead. “Sounds like you’ve got whatever flu has been going around. From what I’ve heard, most people are fine one minute, then they start to feel a little sick, and within an hour or two the flu has hit like a ton of bricks.”

“Sounds about right,” Matt said. “I felt fine last night, woke up with a scratchy throat and feeling like I didn’t want to get out of bed, then by the time I got back from the gym everything hurt and not from working out.” Matt groped for Foggy’s hand which was rubbing small circles on Matt’s stomach. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?” Matt asked.

“Of course,” Foggy said. “Scoot over.” Matt had splurged on a double bed when they had decided to rent an apartment instead of staying in the dorms and Foggy lay down beside him, still holding his hand. He squeezed Matt’s hand. “Try to sleep ok?”

Foggy made sure Matt was asleep before getting out of bed, remembering to grab the trash can on his way out. He pulled the liner out and tossed it then disinfected the inside the best he could before putting a new liner in and placing it next to Matt’s bed. He replaced the cloth on Matt’s forehead with a new one and adjusted his blankets. He then settled himself on the couch with one of his textbooks, after shooting a text message to several of his and Matt’s classmates stating neither of them would be able to make it to their classes today, and most likely not tomorrow, and could he get a copy of their notes so they didn’t miss too much material.

Foggy had managed to work his way through most of a chapter when he heard a thunk, a crash, and then gagging coming from Matt’s bedroom. Foggy tossed his book down and raced into the room to discover Matt on his knees on the floor. He had managed to find the trash can but not before he had thrown up a little bit on the carpeted floor. Fortunately, there still wasn’t much in Matt’s stomach so there wasn’t too big of a mess. Foggy knelt beside him and rubbed his back. When Matt finally decided he was done throwing up for that round, he burst into tears.

“It’s ok,” Foggy said, pulling Matt into a hug, ignoring the smell of vomit in the air. Foggy grabbed the washcloth from the floor where it had fallen in Matt’s attempt to find something to throw up in. He wiped Matt’s face.

“Sorry,” Matt said. “I couldn’t find the trash can in time.”

“It’s ok. I should have stayed in here with you in case you needed anything. Let’s get you back into bed.” Foggy started to help Matt into bed.

“I have to pee,” Matt said. 

“Ok, do you need help getting to the bathroom?”

“Maybe. I’m really dizzy. Pretty sure I’m going to fall off the earth.”

Foggy laughed. “Pretty sure gravity will keep you down here.”

“Gravity’s a lie,” Matt said, feeling Foggy’s arms around him. “Foggy, Foggy, Foggy, don’t let me float to the moon.”

“I won’t let you float to the moon,” Foggy said, trying not to laugh at Matt and how scared he looked at the prospect of ending up on the moon. Foggy turned his back in the bathroom to give Matt a little bit of privacy and then helped him back to bed. Foggy thought Matt had fallen asleep so he didn’t know he was overhearing the conversation Foggy was having with his mom on the phone.

“How do you get vomit out of the carpet?.....No, I’m fine. Matt’s sick. That really bad flu that’s going around…..Mom! It’s not my fault he’s sick! I didn’t do it…..Yes, I took his temperature…..Yes I’m writing down the meds he’s taken and when….102.7….Twice…He’s taken Ibuprofen…..No, don’t come out in this weather to check on him….I can take care of him….Ok, if his fever’s not down by Saturday morning you can come be all Mother Hen with him….But I got this, ok?....Sure….Sure….Love you too Mom….Bye.”

Matt stayed quiet while Foggy got his vomit out of the carpet. When he could tell that Foggy was finished, he spoke up. “Foggy?”

Foggy sat down beside him on the bed. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you going to throw up again?”

“No,” Matt said. “I just…I hate to be a bother, but could I have some Tylenol or Ibuprofen or something? I think it’s been long enough since this morning.”

“Yeah, let me take your temperature first,” Foggy said, grabbing the thermometer and placing it in Matt’s mouth. “102. 4. Sorta down but not really sure if that counts. Want another cool cloth for your forehead?”

Matt nodded, so Foggy got him some Tylenol making sure to note it and record his temperature. His mom would kill him if she came by and Foggy hadn’t been tracking Matt’s medication and fever. He then placed another cool cloth on Matt’s forehead. 

“Want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?” Foggy asked softly.

“Yeah,” Matt whispered. When Foggy lay down next to him Matt reached for his hand. Foggy took it and squeezed. 

“I’m right here. You just rest and let me know if you need anything ok?” Foggy pulled Matt’s head onto his chest, moving the cool cloth long enough to press a kiss to Matt’s forehead.

Matt sighed knowing he was safe in the arms of his best friend. 

Matt slept off and on through the rest of the day, Thursday evening, and Friday morning. Foggy decided to just spend the night in Matt’s bed, in case he needed anything. Matt slept fairly peacefully, only waking up when he needed to use the bathroom or Foggy needed to give him more medicine. His temperature stayed right around the 102 degree mark which, from what Foggy had heard, was the fever most people with this flu were running for about 48 hours before it broke. 

Foggy was in the kitchen Friday afternoon eating some cereal when he heard Matt cry out. He raced into the bedroom to find Matt sitting up in his bed, obviously confused. “Matt, Matt, it’s ok,” Foggy said, sitting down next to him and pulling him into a hug. “It’s ok, I’m right here.”

“Foggy, Foggy, I was, I was on the moon. And you weren’t there. And I was alone. And I don’t want to live alone on the moon,” Matt said, bursting into tears.

“It’s ok, Matt,” Foggy hugged him tightly, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. “You’re not on the moon. You’re not. You’re in your bed, in our apartment. You’re just sick is all.” Foggy did notice that Matt didn’t feel nearly as hot as a few hours ago. “Calm down Matt it’s ok.”

Matt took a couple deep breaths and pulled out of Foggy’s hug, grasping his hand to maintain physical contact. “I want to take a shower,” Matt said suddenly. 

“Ok,” Foggy said. “Let me take your temperature first. You feel like your fever’s gone down.” Several minutes later, Foggy took the thermometer out of Matt’s mouth and declared, “101.3. That’s definitely better. I’d say you’re on the mend,” Foggy declared, squeezing Matt’s hand.

Foggy helped Matt to the shower and then ordered some egg drop soup for both of them while he was showering. When Matt came out of the bathroom a little later, he looked much better. Foggy made him take some more ibuprofen and Matt ate all of his egg drop soup, along with some saltine crackers, and some ginger ale.  
The rest of the weekend was spent in a homework free zone, as Foggy had declared it. He didn’t want Matt putting forth too much effort since he was still on the mend. Foggy’s mother had called on Saturday insisting to speak with Matt to make sure he really was feeling better and that Foggy had taken good care of him.  
Sunday afternoon found Foggy and Matt sitting together on the couch, a movie with audio description in the dvd player so Matt could follow along. Foggy felt Matt grab his hand about halfway through the movie and then a very quiet, “Thank you,” came from Matt.

After two and a half years of best friendship, Foggy didn’t need to ask for what. He knew. He simply squeezed Matt’s hand and said, “You’re welcome.” Matt didn’t take his hand back and Foggy didn’t let go either. They sat through the rest of the movie holding hands and, when it was over, Foggy said, “You never need to worry about being alone Matt. No matter how sick or hurt you are, I will ALWAYS be there to take care of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for what's going to go down in the next chapter.


	6. Torn Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy and Matt both deal with the immediate aftermath of Foggy discovering that Matt is the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you to everyone who commented, bookmarked, left kudos, and have just read this story I've created! Once upon a time I wanted to be a writer for television and movies and books in general. Then real life came along and that dream fell by the wayside. It felt good to get into these characters' heads and do some creative writing again.
> 
> Second, I felt like I rushed through the ending of chapter 5, so I added a little bit more to that story to the beginning of the final chapter.
> 
> I had a lot of feels writing this last chapter. I hope all of you have as many feels reading it! 
> 
> This is the time they did not hold hands.
> 
> Comments are my crack, so feel free to comment away!

February 2013

Foggy and Matt were sitting together on the sofa with a movie in the dvd player. Matt was still recovering from the flu that he had been fighting for the past several days and Foggy was debating whether or not Matt would be well enough to go to classes the next day. He knew Matt was going to attempt to go and he also knew that both he and Matt couldn’t really afford to miss another day. Foggy’s professors were usually pretty lenient with him whenever he had to miss a class due to helping Matt, and all the law professors liked both him and Matt and wanted to see both of them succeed, but missing more than one class period in a row meant having to try to piece together critical information from the text and other students’ notes. However, Matt was still running a low grade fever and Foggy guessed that Matt’s throat was still sore too, since he was still wincing whenever he swallowed anything. He had also been complaining of a mild headache a couple hours earlier, but some ibuprofen had helped a lot, at least that’s what Matt had said when Foggy questioned whether or not he thought a movie would be a good idea with his head hurting.

Foggy didn’t know it, but Matt really wasn’t paying attention to the movie. Matt was thinking about how lucky he was that he had been paired with Foggy as his law school roommate. After his accident, and especially after his dad had died, Matt had had difficulties making new friends. It wasn’t that he didn’t want friends. It was just that most people didn’t know how to act around him. They either assumed he couldn’t do anything at all, as though he were an invalid, or they treated him with kid gloves which just made him mad. Matt had hoped that undergraduate school would allow him the opportunity to start fresh. While he had made several friends in his classes, those same people always shied away from the idea of rooming with him. 

By the time he graduated, he had made enough friends so as not to feel completely alone, but he had never found someone who was comfortable living with him. All four years of undergraduate school had found him being assigned to live with a random person and whoever he was living with never became friendly with him. The first couple of years, he tried to figure out if he was just a bad roommate. But he always kept his side of the room neat and clean, tried not to complain too much if his roommate left things lying around, never played his music loudly, and took a shower every day. By the time his junior year rolled around, he just assumed that whoever he was living with wouldn’t like him, so he spent as much time as he could at the library, at the gym, walking around the city, or spending time with a friend from one of his classes, if he could find one who didn’t have plans already.

He had assumed things would be the same way with Foggy when he arrived at Columbia. Foggy had surprised him though by immediately inviting him out for coffee and a friendship had formed that had turned him and Foggy into, as Foggy’s 13 year old cousin Stacy would say, “BFFs 4 life.” Matt reached over and grabbed Foggy’s hand. “Thank you,” he said quietly, knowing Foggy wouldn’t need an explanation as to what he was being thanked for.  
Foggy squeezed his hand and said, “You’re welcome.” Matt didn’t take his hand back and Foggy didn’t make any indication that he was going to let go either. When the movie was finally over Matt heard Foggy say, as though he had been reading his thoughts, “You never need to worry about being alone Matt. No matter how sick or hurt you are, I will ALWAYS be there to take care of you.” Matt smiled to himself and allowed himself to completely relax, knowing that if he needed anything Foggy would be there.

Set immediately after “Nelson vs. Murdock”

Foggy stood in Matt’s apartment, trying hard to keep the tears from spilling out of his eyes. He could tell that Matt was trying to do the same thing. 

“This city needs me in that mask Foggy,” Matt said, as though that simple sentence was supposed to make things better. As though what The City needed was the most important thing in the world right now.

“Maybe you’re right,” Foggy said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew he was only seconds away from crying and he was not going to cry in front of Matt. “Maybe it does. But I don’t. I only ever needed my friend. I wouldn’t have kept this from you Matt. Not from you.”

“You don’t know that,” Matt said, knowing the tears were going to spill over soon. After all the times he’d cried in front of Foggy through the years, he didn’t know why he wanted to keep the tears away this time. “You don’t know that,” Matt said a second time. 

“Yeah, I do,” Foggy said. Then Foggy put one foot in front of the other and did something he never thought he would ever do. He walked past Matt, who was sitting on the couch hurt and in pain and trying his hardest to keep it together, and out the door. He could hear Matt calling his name still.

“Foggy! Wait, Foggy,” Matt said, trying to get off the couch and failing. 

Foggy shut the door behind him and even without the super sensitive hearing that Matt possessed, he could hear Matt break down. He had seen Matt cry enough times during their friendship to know that this was going to be one for the books. Heart-wrenching sobs were coming from Matt’s apartment and Foggy wanted so badly to go back in there and do what he always does whenever Matt’s crying. He wanted to wrap him in a signature Foggy Nelson bear hug, injuries be damned, and hold him until there were no more tears to be found in Matt Murdock. He wanted to rub his back and run his fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead and tell him everything was going to be alright. He wanted to be that anchor to the world that he had become for Matt whenever things started to unravel. 

But he couldn’t. No matter how badly a part of him wanted to go back in there and comfort Matt, another part of him never wanted to see him again, much less touch him. Finally, Foggy turned and walked away, stumbling a bit on the stairs, suddenly realizing how blurry his own vision had become due to the tears that had poured out of his eyes as soon as he had closed the door to Matt’s apartment behind him.

Foggy didn’t know what to do or where to go. He knew if he went to the office right now he would risk running into Karen. It was only a little past 5:00 and he figured if he gave it a little more time, he could risk going to the office and….and what? Foggy thought to himself. Look through some new case files? They didn’t have any of those at the moment. Daydream about how Nelson and Murdock was going to become a law firm to be reckoned with? Not likely since the two partners weren’t even speaking to each other right now and, Foggy realized, may never speak to each other again. 

Foggy found himself wandering aimlessly through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. His stomach growled when he smelled the familiar scent of a hot dog stand somewhere close by. It wasn’t until then that he realized the only thing he’d had since yesterday evening was three out of the six beers that Matt had in his refrigerator. He pulled his wallet out and bought a hot dog with a Coke. He downed the hot dog in three large bites, wishing he’d taken his time when he discovered he was still hungry. He sipped on the Coke and suddenly found himself sitting on a bench on the outskirts of a small park. He watched as people milled about. People who were having perfectly normal late afternoons. He saw a few children playing, some adults keeping a close eye on them. A woman was pushing a baby in a stroller. A few young women sat in a small group studying something in a textbook. He couldn’t tell by looking at them if they were still in high school or if they were college age now. Man, he was feeling old. 

Then he saw them. Two young guys in Columbia sweatshirts walking along, looking like they didn’t have a care in the world. As they passed by, Foggy overhead one of the guys practically begging the other one to tell him the secret of whose number he had gotten earlier that day in one of their classes. They were laughing and joking about it, but Foggy wanted to jump up and grab the one with the secret by the front of his shirt and yell at him to just tell his friend the secret. Secrets would ruin friendships! 

Foggy took a deep breath and then another sip of his Coke. Secrets were normal. Everybody had a secret or two, even people who had lived together for three and a half years. But Foggy knew that there were secrets and then there were secrets. Foggy had never told Matt about the time he used his toothbrush in college because he was running late for a date with Marci and had knocked his own in the toilet. But that secret was not on the same level as Matt’s, “Hey I run around in a ninja costume and beat people up!” kind of secret. 

Foggy realized that he had gone from anger to sadness to resignation. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to fully forgive Matt. He knew a part of him would always care about and love Matt. He could have left him there, after Claire had patched him up. Of course he wouldn’t have left him to bleed out on the floor of his own apartment. But he could have left him after. And then what? Pretend like he didn’t know who Matt really was when Matt would inevitably call him the next day to tell him he had fallen down stairs, or tripped over a sidewalk, or walked into a wall again? No, he stayed, partly because he wanted Matt to know that Foggy knew. And partly because he couldn’t leave him there until he knew he was actually going to live.

So even though he wanted to leave after Matt had woken up and discovered that Foggy was still there, Foggy just couldn’t go yet. There was too much history there. Too much between the two of them for him to just leave his friend lying in his own blood. So all day Foggy did what a good friend would do. He cleaned up the mess of bloody bandages and cotton and gauze on the floor next to the couch. He brought Matt a bottle of water and ibuprofen when he could tell he was pain. Matt refused to take any of the prescription pain killers Claire had left and for once, Foggy didn’t push the issue with him. He also brought Matt clean clothes from his bedroom, sweatpants and a hoodie and those fuzzy socks he seemed to love so much. 

But even doing those simple things, Foggy had made sure not to touch Matt. He put the bottles of water and pills next to him on the couch instead of opening them and handing him the pills like he used to. He set the clothes next to him on the couch but didn’t help him dress, even though he could tell that it pained Matt to bend over and move to get his limbs in everything in the proper way. Their fingers had almost touched when Foggy grabbed Matt’s phone off the floor when Karen called and Foggy’s pretty sure he would have recoiled at his touch if they had.

Foggy put his head in his hands and took a shaky breath. Was this how it was going to end? Through the years, Foggy had watched other friends of his argue with and end friendships with others. Sometimes it had been over a girl, other times two people simply grew apart after getting married and starting families. But he always dismissed every possibility that came along that something would come between him and Matt. There was nothing, nothing, that could break their friendship. But Foggy knew he may have just been proven wrong. He hoped that his and Matt’s friendship wasn’t over for good but he didn’t know if he could forgive him and move past what he had just discovered. He knew the best chance of that happening however, meant taking some time away from Matt. 

He knew if he was away from Matt for a little while things might become clearer as to what he should do. Just like back at Matt’s apartment, a small part of him wanted to run back to Matt’s and hold his hand, hoping it would be as easy as it was on that first day they met when he had grabbed his hand and dragged him to that coffee shop. He knew if he did that though, that he would be faking the whole thing. Instead, Foggy stood up, tossed his cup in the trash, and started walking towards their office, wondering where he had put that cardboard box he had used to move his stuff into their office. 

************************************************************************************************************************************************

As soon as Foggy had walked out the door, Matt heard him break down. Matt did the same, tears flowing out of his eyes. He knew he was going to rip open his stitches if he didn’t get himself under control but he couldn’t. When Foggy’s heartbeat didn’t immediately disappear Matt started a silent prayer, “Please come back, please come back, please come back.” He said that phrase over and over again until he finally heard Foggy’s heartbeat disappear down the stairs. 

Matt curled up on his left side again on the couch, not wanting to lie on the huge gash on his right side that he was pretty sure was bleeding again. He was in pain but he refused to dull his senses with the prescription pain killers Claire had left and the bottle of ibuprofen was at the other end of the couch. Besides, he figured he deserved to be in the amount of pain he was in. He had just broken his best friend’s heart into a million pieces and he didn’t know if it would ever go back together again. 

Matt knew he was being selfish but he wanted to feel Foggy’s arms around him, wanted to feel his hands rubbing his back, and maybe a forehead kiss or two. Matt had spent years without a lot of physical affection and when he started getting it from Foggy, he realized just how much he not only had missed it, but needed it. Foggy had been the one who could always calm him down. It didn’t matter how big or small the issue was that upset Matt, Foggy’s touch could ground him right back to reality and make everything bad melt away.

Matt contemplated calling Claire but she had made it clear that she wasn’t going to get close to Matt as long as he was still masquerading as The Man In the Mask. He couldn’t call Karen. He knew she would come right over and take care of him but she would have too many questions. He couldn’t drag her into this too. Besides, neither of them were Foggy.

Matt laughed a little at himself. Marci’s nickname for Foggy had been Foggy-Bear. And here Matt was, missing his security blanket, his bear, that he had gotten used to having around when times got tough. He pushed himself back up into a sitting position and decided he needed to eat something. He made his way one painful step at a time into the kitchen and opened his cabinets. The first thing his fingers found was one of those Cup-O-Noodles that Foggy had been addicted to in college and never shaken the habit of. Matt hated them. They tasted like a combination of the styrofoam container they came in and about a cup of salt. He always thought they should be called Cup-O-Salt. But he always kept a few in his cabinets for when Foggy was around in case he got hungry.

Matt slowly pulled the container out of the cabinet. He knew how to make them, as Foggy had narrated the instructions enough times during their college years. He knew he was going to regret it later when he got a headache from all the salt on top of the headache he already had from nearly dying. However, Matt still found himself peeling off the lid, putting water in the cup, stirring the noodles together, letting the microwave do its thing. When the microwave dinged, he pulled the cup out and sat at his table with the steaming cup of plastic salt noodles and a fork and gingerly took a bite. He could only manage a couple of bites before he broke down in tears. He didn’t know why he was crying at first, until he realized it was because the smell of the noodles was reminding him of law school days with Foggy.

The smell of the noodles reminded him of cold winter nights with the rain or snow beating against their dorm room windows, Foggy and Matt knee deep in studies, with Matt drinking tea and Foggy slurping his noodles. The smell took him back to their sophomore year when Foggy had caught a cold that he couldn’t seem to shake and Matt was pretty sure he kept the noodle company in business with as many cups as he had bought from the supermarket. The smell reminded him of their time at Landman and Zack’s when they were still taking on debt in order to live during their internship and Foggy went through a stage where he ate one of those for lunch every day for seven weeks straight. 

Matt sat at his kitchen table, crying into his cup of noodles, feeling like the worst friend on the planet. Foggy had never been anything but kind and caring towards him. He had never asked for that, had never expected it, but Foggy had given him a friend he could count on for anything in the world. A small part of him hoped that after some time had passed Foggy would be able to forgive him and they could figure out a way to at least have something resembling a friendship. He wouldn’t blame Foggy if he wanted to cut his law firm partnership with him. After all, after finding out a secret like this Foggy was probably wondering what else Matt had been keeping from him. And keeping secrets between business partners was a recipe for disaster. 

Matt stood up, dumped the rest of the noodles in the trash, used the bathroom, and made his way to his bed to lie down for a little while. He didn’t know how it was even possible for him to be crying again. He had shed so many tears since Foggy had walked out that he was surprised his eyes could make any more. He rolled onto his side and tucked his arms around himself, trying to give himself a hug since Foggy wasn’t there to do it. He finally cried himself into a restless sleep where he dreamed of Foggy leaving over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I didn't end this chapter (or the story) on a happy note. However, those who have seen all of season 1 know the show's outcome of the episode this chapter is based on.
> 
> As I was watching Nelson vs. Murdock, I knew their friendship wasn't completely over, even after Foggy walked out and collected his stuff from the office. And I tried to convey that in this chapter with making a point that somebody (Foggy) had to be the one who cleaned up the mess beside the couch that mysteriously disappeared, and brought Matt that bottle of water, and brought him some clothes from his bedroom. That didn't slip by me when watching the show so I knew no matter how mad Foggy was, he still cared. He just didn't realize it yet. I hope I did a good job conveying that tone in this chapter.
> 
> I have more ideas roaming around in my head for some Matt and Foggy stories. I have an idea for another multi-chapter fic, as well as some one-shots based off a few things mentioned here and there in these chapters. If there's anything you would like to see/read more of, let me know and I'll see what I can do! 
> 
> Also, as much as it pained me to write them the way I did in this last chapter, my goal all along had been to write them growing closer in their physical contact (from simply grabbing Matt's hand to lead him around campus in chapter 1 to actually sharing a bed with him when he was sick in chapter 5) to Foggy not touching him, even though a part of him wanted to, and Matt wanting the physical comfort so badly.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


End file.
